


Bittersweet

by the_ocean_burned



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Neil's awkward attempts at comfort, Nightmares, implied panic attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 18:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8812336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ocean_burned/pseuds/the_ocean_burned
Summary: Neil has his bad nights, but Andrew's bad nights are worse for both of them.





	

Neil had suffered his fair share of nightmares. It wasn’t exactly like he had had an idyllic childhood; there were obviously things that were going to haunt him in his sleep. His mother’s death had tormented him for _years._ They had gotten better, though, with time and the knowledge that Andrew was there to anchor him when he managed to force himself to return to consciousness. Of course, Andrew was no stranger to nightmares, either. On his worst nights, he sat on the roof with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Some nights Neil joined him; other nights he sat in bed and waited for Andrew to return. It depended on how much space Andrew needed after reliving who knew what in the hellscape of his nightmares. Andrew’s eidetic memory couldn’t help any, either.

Andrew hadn’t explicitly told Neil what his nightmares were about, but Neil had his guesses – assumptions, honestly. He was sure that Andrew’s foster “families” had something to do with the nightmares. Drake almost definitely did. But Neil didn’t pry because, honestly, it was none of his business. Andrew would tell him if and when he was ready to do so.

But it worried Neil. As the anniversary of Aaron’s trial rolled around, Andrew’s troubled nights became more frequent and steadily worse. Neil asked, once, if there was anything he could do to help, but Andrew just glared coldly at him and left the room. Neil didn’t ask again. He knew there were some things that Andrew would never tell him and he understood why, but that didn’t mean it was easy to be a bystander as Andrew tore himself apart from the inside.

When Neil woke in the middle of the night to the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut, he was instantly aware that that particular nightmare was worse than any had been in a long time. He tossed himself out of bed and padded out of the bedroom and across the hall to the bathroom, knocking softly. The door was quivering a little from the force Andrew had shut it with.

“Andrew?”

The sink started running, but there was no verbal response. Neil knocked again, pressing his other palm flat against the door.

“Andrew, what’s wrong?”

“Go away, Josten.”

Neil’s chest tightened. Andrew’s voice was hoarse and so quiet it was barely audible over the sound of the running water, but even so, Neil could hear the pained terror lurking beneath his words. This was not a time to leave Andrew alone with whatever hell lived in his head. God only knew what would happen if Neil did as Andrew said and went away; Neil was all too aware that old habits were nigh impossible to break and terrifyingly easy to fall back into. Andrew had some old habits that Neil was nearly desperate to prevent from resurfacing.

Trying the knob, Neil found the door unlocked. “I’m coming in.”

Not bothering to wait for a response that he probably wouldn’t get, Neil opened the door and stepped in. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the blindingly bright light in the room after the nearly pitch black of the rest of the house.

Andrew hunched over the sink, running his wrists under the water. He had the tap turned to full hot; the water was steaming and his wrists were going red faster than Neil would have liked. His eyes, glazed over and vacant, staring at nothing, even though he had fixed on his wrists. Neil almost felt like hugging him. He also knew that would be one of the worst things he could do at the moment.

Instead, he reached out and turned the tap off. Andrew didn’t move. Now that the water wasn’t running, Neil noticed that Andrew’s fingers were trembling.

“I thought I told you to go away.” Andrew’s voice was tight, his self-control visibly stretched thin by whatever had happened in his mind.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Neil responded. After a moment, he hovered his hands over Andrew’s.

“Yes or no?”

Something broke in Neil’s chest when Andrew shook his head and stepped away, curling his fingers into fists and crossing his arms. Neil lowered his hands to his sides and watched as Andrew forced himself into a semblance of calm.

“Andrew—” Neil started.

“Don’t. I’m fine.”

“That’s my lie.”

Andrew fixed Neil with a look that would have been a more withering glare than Neil had been on the receiving end of for a long time had he not been so dead-eyed. Neil took a step toward Andrew and Andrew moved away, his heels knocking dully against the tub. Neil didn’t move to touch him, but Andrew’s eyes flicked toward Neil’s hands as if he was going to.

Slowly, Neil sat on the bathroom floor, cross-legged, and folded his fingers in his lap. He didn’t allow his gaze to waver or leave Andrew’s face. Andrew watched him warily and, after a moment, sat on the edge of the bathtub. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each challenging the other to look away. To Neil’s surprise, Andrew was the first to avert his gaze.

Clearly that night’s horror had been worse than the others Neil had been around to witness, and it had taken something apart in Andrew. That scared Neil. He had never seen Andrew so completely undone.

“Do you want to go back to bed?”

“No.”

“Do you want coffee?”

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Fuck off, Josten.”

Neil fell uneasily silent again, at a loss for words. Andrew hadn’t ever allowed Neil to comfort him before, not like this. During Aaron’s trial, he had looped an arm around Andrew’s shoulder as Andrew pressed himself against Neil’s side, but that had been a special circumstance. When Andrew was calming Neil down after a nightmare or a panic attack, he crowded Neil against a wall or a chair or something equally sturdy and braced a hand on the back of Neil’s neck. But that wouldn’t work when the situation reversed; Neil was not about to try to touch Andrew, especially not after he had said no. Andrew didn’t have his knives at that moment, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t defend himself, and Neil refused to be anything close to similar to the people who had spent so long abusing Andrew. He was not like them and he refused to put Andrew in that helpless position again. He would kill anyone who tried.

Neil was at a complete loss. He couldn’t tell what Andrew needed from him, not when Andrew had crouched in front of the bathtub with his forehead pressed against his kneecaps. His fingers were still shaking.

“Should I leave?” Neil asked tentatively. He didn’t want to, but if Andrew needed space to fall apart and pick up the pieces on his own, he wasn’t going to deny him that.

Andrew didn’t answer. After waiting for another few seconds, Neil moved to stand, not wanting to push Andrew too far too soon. Andrew lifted his face just enough to glare at Neil. The way he curled so tightly in on himself made him seem too afraid and too much like he was trying to hide for the glare to be effective, but Neil got the message and sat back down.

He didn’t know where to look. Staring at Andrew felt a little creepy and more than a little invasive, but there was nothing else in the bathroom _to_ look at. So he settled for staring down at his palms, twisting his fingers carefully together. He didn’t know what to say or do to maybe make things easier for Andrew.

 After a moment, he glanced over at Andrew again and found Andrew already watching him contemplatively. Neil met his gaze and held it, trying to convey with his eyes everything that would only end with violence if he vocalized it. _I’m right here, I’m not leaving, you’re safe, I promise. I’m not going anywhere. Please trust me._

It must have worked to some degree, since the tension in the line of Andrew’s shoulders unwound and he closed his eyes for a moment. Neil still wanted to hug him, but he didn’t. Andrew could barely refrain from stabbing Nicky for hugging him in the best moments, and right after an especially hellish nightmare definitely didn’t count as a good moment.

Neil didn’t know how long they spent on the bathroom floor, but it was long enough that his foot started to fall asleep and his legs started to cramp. Thankfully, it was just about then that Andrew stood. Neil clambered to his feet as well, finally breaking eye contact. After a moment’s hesitation, Andrew hooked a finger into the collar of Neil’s shirt.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.” _It’s always going to be yes with you, no matter what you seem to believe._

Andrew glared as if he knew what Neil had thought – it was entirely possible that he did – but tugged him down into a kiss anyway. Neil tangled his fingers in Andrew’s hair, but didn’t pull Andrew closer. He had the feeling that Andrew needed to know he was still in control, so he made no move to even attempt to take that away. Neil trusted Andrew, no matter what Andrew himself believed to the contrary. If there was one person in the world who Neil knew with absolute certainty would never do anything to hurt him, it was Andrew.

The kiss was brief and relatively chaste, but Neil was acutely aware of what it meant. Andrew’s primary form of nonverbal communication when it came to Neil was kissing and Neil had learned to read each and every kiss. This one said _thank you for staying._

Neil smiled down at Andrew and scratched at Andrew’s scalp gently. Andrew relaxed a slightly.

“Should I sleep in the guest room tonight?” Neil asked after another few seconds of silence.

Andrew considered Neil, and then shook his head. Neil’s smile widened softly. This was a monumental display of trust, particularly coming from Andrew. It was moments like this when it was especially obvious to Neil how far he and Andrew had come. When they had first gotten together, Neil hadn’t been able to touch Andrew at all and Andrew had slept with his back pressed firmly against the wall, as far away from Neil as possible, on the few occasions that they shared a bed. Now, nearly ten years later, Neil didn’t need to ask nearly as much to touch Andrew – though he still did it, especially on nights when Andrew was already on edge and his self-control had worn thin – and, on better nights, Neil would fall asleep with Andrew curled against him, and although he’d be on the other side of the bed when Neil woke up, he was not nearly as far away as he would have been even a year before. It was a comfort to know that, at least, he and Andrew were slowly getting better at the whole being-in-love thing. Actually, that wasn’t anything they had ever had a problem with. It was the _trust_ part that they weren’t so well-versed in, especially at first.

They were far from good at it even then _,_ but they were definitely better than they had been in the beginning, and Neil knew that they’d keep getting better, so it was fine by him if they had their occasional rough patches along the way.


End file.
